


Curse of the Congalala Fruit

by EyeBeast



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Ape, BBW, Burping, Congalala, F/M, Farting, Fat - Freeform, IQ Loss, Male - Freeform, TF, Transformation, Weight Gain, bbm - Freeform, bhm, female - Freeform, slob, wg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25756291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeBeast/pseuds/EyeBeast
Summary: This is a commissioned story for (https://doom7951.deviantart.com/) set in the world of Monster Hunter, where two unlucky hunters take a job involving a pack of gassy apes that will forever change them.
Kudos: 8





	Curse of the Congalala Fruit

The bright, midday sun, filtered through the dense tree tops to shine on a gathering of peculiar, creatures, indulging in their feast. They were a pack of monsters known as Congas, with ape-like bodies covered in pink fur, tinged with green, with wide hippopotamus faces, short, fluffy tails, and bare, exposed rears that kept most other creatures away with their infamous gas. For the moment, the pack of Congas was busy indulging themselves in the many bulbous, green fruits that hung from the giant tree above and occasionally, fell to the ground for easy consumption.

At the edge of the gathering, sat a Conga, with an engorged belly and a pile of the fruits, eaten down to the core. Chomping another fruit in half, it did what came natural and released a fart that had the power to scare away any hostile creature. Opening its mouth wide to finish its meal, the Conga instead got a rock heaved straight at its teeth. Dropping the fruit, the ape yelped in pain and turned around to look at its attacker.

Standing on top of a rock in full view of the pack, was a female hunter, outfitted in Kirin armor, holding another rock in her hand. The loose outfit, showed off her toned, tanned abs through her exposed mid-section and the short gloves, which were practically, skin tight on her muscular arms. A single-horned headband, kept her long, pixie cut, silver hair out of her piercing green eyes, allowing her to see the rest of the Congas slowly, become aware of her presence. Despite earning the ire of dozens of ferocious Conga, the huntress stood steady with a bright smile and beat her free hand against her chest.

“I am Maria the hunter,” she proclaimed, tossing another rock at the same Conga. “Come and get me!”

By the time the Congas were able to pull themselves away from their fruit to attack her, Maria was already bounding through tree limbs and bushes to escape. Dodging thrown fruit cores and rocks, Maria kept her eyes peeled as she ran through the wilderness, following the markers she had made beforehand. After two minutes of sprinting with the Congas right on her heels, Maria found her sanctuary in the form of a giant metal cage, hidden underneath a pile of leaves. Sliding into the cage, she slammed the gate shut, just in time to watch the Congas slam into the bars.

“Good luck idiots,” Maria called out, to the apes angrily, banging their fists at the cage. “This thing was made to stand up to a Rathalos. Just try and get through.” Watching the frustrated Congas continuously, try to break through, Maria sat in a kneeling position, hoping to pass the time watching them struggle, while she waited for her partner to finish his task.

Eventually, the Congas grew wise to the fact that as hard as they tried, they weren’t going to get through bars. Fuming with anger, the Conga that Maria hit earlier, bared its teeth at her, showing a recently, made gap, before climbing up to the top of the cage. Remembering what her hunting partner had told her about Congas, Maria reached into her sack to grab a gas mask. Rummaging through her supplies, Maria’s look of confidence slowly, faded as she realized that even with her partner’s constant reminders, she had left the crucial item behind. With the Conga, lowering its rear on top of the cage, Maria held her nose, hoping she could withstand the incoming attack.

With a howl, the Conga let loose a fart into the cage, Maria’s eyes watering as the foul gas, slipped past her nostrils. The noxious gas, put her in a dizzied state, lumbering back towards one end of the cage to escape the smell, only to feel her hand brush up against the rear of another Conga. Before, Maria could run to the other side of her self-made prison, the other Conga followed its friend and blasted a fart right in her face. Coughing like she was going to lose a lung, Maria collapsed to the ground, helpless to stop the other Congas from surrounding the cage and pointing their rears towards her. As if led by an unseen conductor, the Congas let out a seemingly, endless cacophony of gas, leaving Maria to sit on her knees, her eyes and nose burning at the smell.

As the first group of Congas emptied out their gas reserves, another set of Congas took their place, giving Maria a small window to breathe. While, she could still taste the horrific odor, Maria’s body had gotten over the initial shock, giving her back some mobility. Sitting up straight, Maria forced herself to smile, even in front of the ever threatening wall of Congas climbing up her cage. “If this is the best they can do,” Maria said to herself, “I should be able to tough it out.”

Standing up straight, Maria’s confidence was replaced by confusion as she felt her armor snag in places that were once loose. Ignoring the hostile group of Congas, Maria looked down to see her once tight abdomen, had grown doughy, a layer of fat hanging over her waistline. Bewildered by the loss of muscle, Maria didn’t have time to react to a Conga starting the attack early, by releasing a small fart in her face. Coughing the gas out of her lungs, Maria turned back just in time to see the small amount of flab, surge forward, losing any sense of muscle.

“What the-“

Maria words were drowned out as the Congas resumed their barrage of gas. Looking through her tear soaked eyes, Maria watched as her body followed the same path of her stomach, her once prideful muscles, melting into chubby fat. Another toxic cloud, seemed to inflate her chest, her cleavage spilling out of her top, with her breasts ready to pop out at a moment’s notice. Getting a face full from a Conga’s rear end, plumped up her own rear, leaving little of her skirt leftover to keep her modest. Grasping her thickening love handles with her newly, pudgy hands, Maria’s two chins quivered as she wondered when her weight gain would stop.

Once again, the lineup of Congas moved aside, to make way for the next group. With a break in the action, Maria dove into her bag to fish out the flash bomb she had made for her escape. Sliding her thick finger into the pin, she was about to pull it to chase off the gassy apes, until she remembered the reason she was in the cage in the first place. Her thick neck swiveled between the Congas, the bomb, and her own encroaching belly, literally, weighing her options. With the Congas taking position above the cage again, Maria calmly, sat her thick rear down in the center of the cage. Keeping one hand on the grenade, Maria sat as still as possible, painfully, aware of each second that passed and each pound that was added onto her with each fart pumped into the cage.

Feeling her gut, plop out between her legs, Maria’s grip on the grenade grew tighter. “Hurry Dorian,” she said, hoping her partner would hear.

* * *

Under the shade of the giant tree where once dozens of Congas congregated, the few flies that lingered around the abandoned fruit cores, witnessed a strange bush moving around. Stopping in front of a pile of leftover fruit, the head of a tanned young man by the name of Dorian popped out, his piercing blue eyes, shifting back and forth to make sure he was alone. Sinking back into the bush, Dorian reappeared moments later, with his slim body weighed down by full plated, Zinogre armor, dyed a dark green to better camouflage himself. Taking one last look for any apes, he pushed his helmet down over his swept back brown hair, ready to do his job.

Picking up one of the fruit, Dorian cut it open with it a small knife, immediately, reeling back from the permeating odor. Composing himself, Dorian continued his dissection, trying to keep his hand steady, even with his short time limit. Like the job poster had said, the fruit was different from anything else logged in the books. With its abhorrent stench, it made a suitable replacement in a Conga’s diet, for providing both a food source and fueling their main defensive, ability. At a first glance, Dorian couldn’t come up with a use for such a repulsive plant other than a makeshift stink bomb. However, his job wasn’t to come up with something useful for the ghastly fruit, just to bring back as many as he could to the village for someone else to poke at. Reaching into the fake bush, Dorian pulled out a woven basket with straps and placed the opened fruit inside. Hanging the basket off his back, Dorian set about gathering the fruit, only stopping whenever he though he heard something rustling in the bushes.

In a matter of minutes, the basket was filled with fruit, with many more still to collect. Putting the first basket back into the bush, Dorian retrieved another, in high spirits at how simple the task was. Popping open the second basket, Dorian gave a short thank you to his partner Maria, who was no doubt, doing a wonderful distraction job. Although, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something that he was forgetting. Just then, a loud groan from above Dorian’s head, reminded him of a simple fact: every pack of Congas, has a leader.

Slowly, tilting his head upwards, Dorian’s eyes went wide as he saw an overweight Congalala, slumbering away in the tree branches, blissfully, unaware of his presence. Like its lesser companions, the Congalala sported a thick pink and green pelt, that surrounded everything except its fearsome jaws, round gut, and hazardous rear end. The beast seemed completely, at peace, its long tail lazily, swinging back and forth in the treetop.

Closing up the second basket, Dorian stuffed the fruit he collected into the bush, intending to leave before the giant ape woke up. He stopped in his tracks again, once he heard another sound from above, of wood creaking and splintering. Dorian had just enough time to tilt his head back up to see the branches above finally, give and the enormous monster come tumbling down on top of him.

Dorian’s armor took the brunt of the Congalala’s weight, but that still left him pinned underneath the enormous ape, trying not to yell in pain. Try as he might, the slim hunter couldn’t move the massive beast off of him. Stopping his useless struggling before he exhausted himself, Dorian took a moment to scan the area for a way out. Despite the long fall, the Congalala was still sound, asleep, likely, only to wake up when it was time for its next meal. A small silver lining, was that the baskets of fruit were intact, albeit one of them having fallen over from the shockwave of the crash, leaving the fruit laying in front of him inches away.

Reaching out his hand, Dorian grasped one of the fruit and brought it to his face, contemplating an awful idea. With the grumbling noise of the Congalala’s stomach above him, Dorian threw caution to the wind and bit into the fruit, immediately, regretting his decision as his mouth filled with the sour, almost rotten taste. Trying to keep himself from vomiting, Dorian tossed the fruit over his head, landing it on top of the Congalala’s chest. Sniffing the powerful scent, the Congalala started to awaken, opening up its wide jaws in a fearsome yawn. Noticing the half-eaten fruit in front of it, the Congalala sat up and devoured it in one gulp. As Dorian had hoped, the single fruit was nowhere near enough for the brute, enticing it to get up off its giant rear and search for more food.

Free from his hairy prison, Dorian stood up on his shaky legs and cautiously, backed away from the Congalala. Fully, intending to run to the rendezvous point with Maria, he grabbed the overturned basket and filled it back up. Almost filling it the brim, his mouth started to tingle with a strange craving, bringing him back to the rancid fruit in his hand. While his rational mind questioned why in the world he would have the urge to eat more of the tainted produce, his mouth was already opening wide to take a bite. With juices dripping down his chin, he devoured the fruit at a speed comparable the gluttonous beast, just a few feet away. Tossing away the empty core, Dorian reached for another fruit, his former disgust replaced with an obsession to fill his gullet with as many as he could grab.

Sinking his teeth into his fourth serving of fruit, Dorian felt a strange itching sensation along his arm. Holding the fruit in his mouth, he slid off his gauntlet and saw his arm had plumped up, with several, bright pink hairs dotting the length of it. Taking another bite of fruit, he watched the hairs double in count and his arm jiggle as more fat was packed on. The growth and thin layer of fur, brought more fascination than worry, something in the fruit overwriting Dorian’s once, rational mind. Shrugging off his other gauntlet, Dorian continued to feast on fruit, paying little mind to the fur encroaching upon the rest of his body.

As the feast continued, Dorian periodically, had to stop eating to take off another piece of armor, either to scratch at the fur spreading across his body or to make room for the additional fat. The chest plate was thrown aside as soon as he developed a barrel-like gut, his chest and stomach completely, devoid of the bright pink hair covering his extremities. The rest of his upper armor came off soon after, leaving his arm fat to sag almost as low as his pair of man boobs. With a few kicks, his boots were flung off into a pile of empty fruit cores, giving Dorian a good look at his furry, thick thighs, leading to a pair of plump toes that tingled as they wiggled against his hair. Tossing off his helmet, Dorian chewed on his 12th helping of fruit while his fingers, scratched at his mangy hair, the brown now covered by the same hue of pink, tinged with green. Swallowing his 15th piece of fruit, Dorian stood up, grabbing what remained of his pants and pulling them down inch by inch. With an audible pop, his bare butt was revealed, the wobbling rear, being gently, brushed by Dorian’s newly, grown, long Congalala tail.

Almost indistinguishable from the very Congalala that not long ago, used him as a pillow, Dorian didn’t even blink an eye as he approached the beast to find more food. Getting close enough to smell the Congalala’s body odor, Dorian picked up a leftover fruit, only to stop once he heard a low grumbling noise. Dorian watched the ape lift up its tail and release one of its infamous farts, before returning to its own pile of fruit. Hearing a similar noise coming from his own stomach, Dorian leaned forward and balanced on his knuckles, adopting a similar pose and lifting up his tail to release a torrent of horrid gas. Despite the awful stench, the fart brought him a sense of relief, giving Dorian more room in his already enormous stomach to continue his fruit binge.

Entranced by his own gas and need to feed, Dorian failed to notice the large figure sneaking through the shadows. Reaching for another fruit, Dorian heard something rustling in the bushes and in preparation, turned his rear towards the attacker, ready to put his new Congalala body to good use. With an animalistic growl, he farted on the mysterious figure, only to hear the familiar hacks and coughs of an old friend.

Maria stumbled out from behind the bush, with her hand over her face, while the other tugged at the thin pieces of fabric stuck between her own fat. She had always towered over Dorian in stature, but even with his sudden growth spurt, she had nearly, caught up with his own weight, her belly just a few pound away from matching his. Sniffing the air around her, Dorian got a heavy whiff of dozens of different Congas embedded in her clothing, immediately, identifying her as a friend rather than a foe.

“Hey Maria,” Dorian said, finally, recognizing her, even with the extra chin and look of disbelief. “What happened to you?”

“Me!? What happened to you?” Maria asked back, poking her finger into one of his pudgy, fur-coated arms.

“I think it has something to do with these,” Dorian said, holding up a fruit just seconds before biting into it. “The more I eat the larger, gassier, and more Conga-like I become.” Wiping his face free from juices, Dorian paused to force out another fart, much to Maria’s disgust. “Since the Congas have been using it as their main source of food, I guess some of the effects linger in their gas.”

Seeing Dorian go in for another bite, Maria slapped it out of his hand. “Then why are you still eating them?”

“Because,” Dorian said, sitting on his plump rear, and scratching himself, a puff of gas momentarily, lifting up his tail, “it feels soooooo good.”

“That fruit must be affecting your brain too,” Maria said. Seeing the two baskets of fruit, she closed the tops and heaved them onto her back. “Come on, let’s get back to town. We’ll find a doctor who can look at this stuff and maybe come up with a cure.” Grabbing Dorian’s hand, she easily, lifted him up, some of her muscles still lingering underneath her fat. Leaving the Congalala to the remaining fruit, Maria dragged Dorian towards home.

For hours, Maria trekked through the wilderness, the journey made ever slower by both her and Dorian’s added weight. In addition to having to stop every few feet to rest her heavy body, she also had to deal with Dorian constantly, trying to pry open the baskets to get at the fruit. She would always push him off, but that meant getting her hands on his mangy fur, alongside the occasional, fart that enshrouded them both. The huntress had often boasted about her stamina and endurance, but left in the jungle with hundreds of pounds of extra weight and a partner who could only focus on food and his own gas, it was only a matter of time before she broke.

Maria’s last ounce of energy gave out, just within sight of the village on the horizon, leaving her to rest her pudgy body on a fallen log. Tossing off the baskets, Maria had to face the fact, that there was no way she was going to reach the village in her current state. Taken over by exhaustion and hunger, Maria paid little mind to Dorian breaking into a basket to continue his fruit binge. She needed energy to walk that last stretch, but that required rations, which she had forgotten at home, probably alongside her gas mask.

Slumping forward, Maria rested her chubby chins in her hands, to try and think of a plan. She got an answer when Dorian shoved a fruit in her face. Reaching out for the fruit, Maria turned to her simian partner, to see a look of worry, something that still lingered even after his unruly transformation. Accepting the fruit, Maria knew what she was about to do was dumb, but it wasn’t like she had many other options.

Sinking her teeth into the fruit, Maria tried to ignore the rotten taste and force it down, knowing that she needed the fuel. Tossing aside the empty core, Maria reached into one of the baskets for another, this time, the taste bringing with it a sense of euphoria. What started as a small snack, became an indulgent feast, with Dorian and Maria eating through their own respective baskets. Halfway through her basket, Maria had to stop, to start tearing off her clothing, no longer able to withstand having her body feel so constrained. Tossing her ruined armor onto the forest floor, she rubbed her fingers against the fur growing along her arms and legs. Biting into another fruit, she dripped juices onto her engorged breasts, the liquid, falling down her bare chest and glistening off her bulbous gut.

With her basket emptied, Maria stood up and stretched, letting her new tail swing against wide ass for the first time. Getting into a squatting position, she followed Dorian’s lead and let out a rancid fart, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. Scratching her back hair, she sniffed at the air, looking for her next meal. Eyes darting back towards the village, her Conga muddled brain, was able to remember the fruit stand, sitting in the center of town. Walking on their knuckles, Dorian and Maria headed towards home, ready to fill their bellies and subject the town to their gas.


End file.
